


Founded in Nothing

by deadfvrst



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 20:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12196440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadfvrst/pseuds/deadfvrst
Summary: Gerard sits anyway.





	Founded in Nothing

Frank is sat on a bench, next to a bus stop. It isn't part of the bus stop, he'd checked specifically to avoid any confusion. It's just a bench.

Gerard, just barely on the lip of being late, doesn't notice that the bench and the stop have no correlation. There's a fair distance between the sign and where Frank's camped out, and it doesn't even look like your run of the mill bus-bench. It's plastic, and cheap, with a real estate ad on it.  
Gerard sits anyway.

When the number 6 rattles its way down the road and doesn't stop, Frank disregards any social etiquette he might've learned and pats the stranger on the shoulder. Gerard, has likely never looked more sad, at least, not in Frank's opinion.

"That was gonna take me to work," the guy practically sobs.

"Where abouts would that be?," Frank has never been anything if not sympathetic.

"The K-craft studio near that huge used book store downtown?", defeated and confused.

"Dude, I was just on my way home from picking up the mail, I love that book place. I can totally drop you off, if you need it," And after many a polite protest they were scaling the streets in Frank's beat up station wagon.

That happened four months ago, and Gerard hasn't missed a bus since that day, or seen Frank at that bench. Only because, later that week, he'd gotten his car back and hadn't needed Frank or the bus.

Frank would disagree.

He's perched now outside the studio, ready to go in, ready to ask for the awkwardly cute goth guy, when the door swings open and they're face to face.

It takes a second, cos it's been a while but Gerard's face doesn't pale, he just grins. And so does Frank.

"What are you doing here?", he asks, and it isn't curious.

"I was in the area and I saw the sign for this place, so I thought I might check it out," it's a half truth.

"Oh, well I'm sorry to inform you that we've just closed," Gerard doesn't look sorry at all.

"Well, that sucks," probably, "maybe you could tell me more about the business over dinner, then?", he's never been so smooth.

"See, I totally would, but I'm actually already on my way to discuss some commissions with another client. But, if you give me your email I can probably pencil an appointment for you sometime next week?", Frank isn't disappointed, he's not.

"That's really nice of you, but uh-- I was thinking maybe more like, a, more like a date kind of thing?", he's doesn't mumble either, he doesn't.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?," Gerard looks genuinely concerned.

Frank feels like he's having a stroke, "Would you go on a date with me?"

"Oh! Yes, sure. I mean, yeah.", and Gerard has a million pens in his pockets so he pulls one out and writes his number on Frank's palm because there's no space anywhere else.

"I think I'm free pretty much anytime after Thursday, but let me know, okay?", and Frank has to watch him go with those words and a scrawled lowercase 'g' on his hand as the only proof he manned up enough to ask.

"Okay," he says to himself, much too late for Gerard to hear but, still.

Okay.


End file.
